


Saving the Day through Punch

by everythingneedsrevision



Series: Retro Boys and Girls [5]
Category: Hardy Boys - Franklin W. Dixon, Nancy Drew (2007), Nancy Drew - Carolyn Keene, Nancy Drew/Hardy Boys Super Mysteries - Franklin W. Dixon & Carolyn Keene
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brothers, Crossover, Friendship, Gen, Missing Scene, Teasing, just add hardy boys, squint if you like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 05:51:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5573248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everythingneedsrevision/pseuds/everythingneedsrevision
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank and Joe continue their investigation during Nancy's party. And there is punch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saving the Day through Punch

**Author's Note:**

> So I was supposed to do actual case fic type stuff. Then Joe wanted to do this, and so I let him.
> 
> And then I let the second scene happen, too. Oops.

* * *

“Joe, I need to talk to you.”

Joe's groan wasn't just for the benefit of the guys he was standing next to—he couldn't believe Frank's timing. For the first time, he thought they were about to let him in on their dirty little habit and even offer him some. This was what they'd been working toward all these weeks, and it would all be ruined because Frank had lousy timing.

“Sorry guys, loser older brother alert,” he said, excusing himself from his group and moving away with Frank. He didn't even have to fake being annoyed this time. “All right, Frank. What do you want?”

“I saw someone spike the punch.”

“Seriously? I swear, Frank, you are taking the role you're playing too far. Lighten up.”

Frank glared at him. “We're here tracing a drug ring and you think that someone spiking the punch isn't a cause for concern? Think about it. Even if that is just alcohol in there—and I have my doubts—the effect it could have if anyone is on that drug—”

“Damn,” Joe swore, and Frank nodded in agreement. This was bad, and they both knew it. Most of the fatalities caused by this drug happened after the user had mixed it with high quantities of alcohol.

“I think we can prevent most of the damage if we get that punch bowl knocked over. Something that's easy enough for us.”

“You want me to be an out of control klutz or you want to fight?”

Frank considered for a moment. “I think we should do the fight. That explains why I wanted to talk to you—I was trying to get you to leave—and it'll give me a chance to change and move around the party more freely. I'm out of place here.”

Joe nodded. “You are too much of a dork for this one, though your girlfriend's one, too.”

“Girlfriend?” Frank repeated and then stopped, his expression darkening. “Nancy is _not_ my girlfriend. Don't even start down that road. You are such a little brat.”

“And you're an uptight control freak loser who can't stand to have a little fun,” Joe snapped, letting the small real part of the fight help them over into the fake one they were putting on for show. “Get this through your head—I don't take orders from you. Even if you could make me, I'm not going home with you. You go back to your computer and cry because you're a pathetic loser. I'm going to have some fun.”

“We're leaving,” Frank insisted, making the mistake of reaching for Joe's arm. Joe brushed it off, shoving him back—right into the punchbowl.

Pink punch splattered everyone standing near by, drenching Frank. Mission accomplished, Joe thought, feeling a bit guilty as Frank picked himself up from the floor. He glared at Joe before stalking angrily away.

* * *

“Frank?”

He stopped, looking back from the car's trunk. He had brought a change of clothes—they almost always had a go bag when they were working, but he'd figured he'd need something a little less computer club and a little more private detective to finish out the night if they got a lead.

He just wasn't expecting anyone to notice or care that he'd been covered in pink punch. He should have, for more than one reason. “Nancy.”

Nancy blushed, looking to the side and making him realize he hadn't finished changing his shirt. “I just came—you know how when it's your party you're responsible for all the guests and even if it's out of control you can't really not be responsible for it and—”

“I saw someone spike the punch and let Joe hit me so we could keep anyone from drinking it,” Frank told her, pulling the new shirt over his head. “It's fine.”

“Oh,” she said, smiling a little. “Well, I'm—I'm glad nothing happened.”

He smiled back, reaching for a comb instead of the pants that he would have changed into next. He would have to wash it, but he could use a bit of gel to keep it in place. “I'm sorry we wrecked your party.”

She shook her head. “You didn't. Really. It was... kind of there already. It's not exactly what I expected from a party.”

That was partially his fault. His and Joe's and their case. He put back the comb and grabbed his pants, though he had to wait to change them. “I'm sorry it's out of hand. We needed it to be, but that shouldn't have ruined your night.”

She shrugged. “It could have been worse. I was starting to think that no one would come.”

To be honest, so had he, but he didn't want to say so. He slipped his feet out of his shoes, switching out the pennyloafers for his black tennis shoes.

“Frank?”

He turned back to look at her. “Hmm?”

“If no one had come to my party, would you still have stayed?” Nancy asked, running her hands over her arms in the cold. “I don't have a lot of real friends in LA, and Bess and George couldn't come and my dad is working—”

“Joe and I would have been honored.”

“I would have saved you a dance,” she said with a shy smile. Then she looked back at the house. “I should probably get back in there.”

He nodded. “Yeah. And I've got... um... a case.”


End file.
